


Princely Manners

by dagas isa (dagas_isa)



Category: Swordspoint Series - Kushner
Genre: Crossdressing, F/F, Porn Battle, Post-Canon, Roleplay, Seduction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-07-20
Updated: 2010-07-20
Packaged: 2017-10-10 16:40:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/101875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dagas_isa/pseuds/dagas%20isa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Artemisia slides easily into character as the proper young lady, and the role of the dashing young prince shall be played by myself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Princely Manners

"I'm very important to the duchess, I should have you know." Artemisia slides into character perfectly, the indignant lady, ready to be--dare I say it--seduced by the dashing young prince, played tonight by none other than myself.

I laugh. "Forget the duchess for tonight. I fear, dear lady, that if I could not have you, then it shall be the end of both of us." Not the best of lines perhaps, but within the same rhetoric as Fabian's. My hand cradles her cheek and runs a thumb across her lip. I can feel her smile.

"What if I deny you?"

"Then the sun shall not rise for either of us." I move my hand down her chin and to her collar bone. "Yet, if you allow me, my lady, I shall be your humble servant. I shall bring you the joy of a thousand suns and a thousand gems, and yet compared to your smile, they should be so dull." The words would sound foolish in the middle of the day, but at night on a secluded balcony of Tremontaine House to this particular beauty, they are the right ones.

"And what of my reputation?" Her blue eyes look up at me, searching for that reason to say yes.

"My lady," I say, touching the fine handle of my rapier, "Against lords and scoundrels, I shall protect your honor to my death. I shall cherish your honor above my own and value your loveliness above even my own sword, if you so choose it."

"I freely choose so." She leans in to me, and my arm guides her by the waist to a hidden nook. Her skirts are full, and her bosom rises splendidly over the top of her dress, and by my intention, both shall be fully explored.

*

"Would you like some assistance, milady?" I bow and keep up my chivalric charade, as though the lace of Artemisia's petticoats had not fallen around my head only minutes ago and that my nimble hands were not the ones responsible for the disarray of her garment.

"Hmm...yes, that would be nice."

I lace her bodice tightly, and appreciate the way her breasts spill forward. Though fashion and I know little of each other, this current mode that has all the ladies wearing a low neck is one that I admire. I smooth her skirts down and offer a hand. "May I escort you back into the ball?"

"That would be lovely. I fear that your attentions earlier have left my legs entirely unable to support myself." We walk into the ball, Artemisia, a lady favored by the Duchess Tremontaine, and myself, a prince, or at least a pretty young lad dressed in princely finery. Even with the blush filling her cheeks, she fits perfectly into the scene.

I give her smooth hand one last kiss. "I must take my leave, my lady." I spoke the truth. After all, when a duchess holds what polite society calls the soiree of the season, she is expected to be in attendance, and as Artemisia's has demonstrated, ladies' gowns are cumbersome to prepare.


End file.
